


Calamity, perhaps?

by ilyena_sylph



Series: Second Chance Verse [3]
Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-21
Updated: 2006-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce has been de-aged to nineteen, and is having to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calamity, perhaps?

**Author's Note:**

> brava, brava, bravissima to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/merfilly/profile)[**merfilly**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/merfilly/), who put up with me being so slow (and Bruce being so annoying) in getting this posted, after she was so wonderful.

Bruce sighed, fingers pressed against his temples, sitting up in the master suite--his for years, and yet now vaguely unfamiliar. A pad of paper rested against one knee, pen in his other hand. He thought best with something to jot notes on, though he'd learned to use only his mind as that notepad in his older years the trick was eluding him, forcing him to settle for the more concrete form.

//Who can I possibly talk about this with? J'onn already knows, and seemed unwilling to remain longer than necessary--my mind is likely a strain on him now.// He wrote a name, considering, then looked at it. //Clark... no! Absolutely not.// The heroes might consider them close as brothers... but they were uneasy allies and rivals, as well, if his memory served him correctly. No, Clark was not possible. Of the other members of the League... most were just as unacceptable, given the loss of face that would immediately result from confiding in any of them. He knew what the likely reactions of his closest, mm, compatriots would be... and his pride would not allow the damage to his reputation.

//Even Diana--especially Diana.// He noted down her name and struck through it, just as he had Clark's, and for good measure the rest of the "big seven", striking through them all.

The Harvey that had been his friend would have found this a riot... but Two-Face would take far too much glee in using it to bring about his death. Alfred already knew, and did not deserve to be further burdened. He also could not speak of the vulnerabilities of this to either of his boys. They did not need the strain, or the change in the relationship... //It's inevitable... Not yet.//

His fingers wrote out a list of confidantes, former and current.. and it was dismaying to see how many of them were lost to him, or impossible... ~~Seli--~~ //No. Simply **no**. And I'm not speaking to Jason about this. He feels guilty enough already... and yet I'm angry with him, stupid as that is. He did the best he could.//

Dinah was almost possible, given her dip in the Lazarus Pit and what it had done to her... but entirely too close to Barbara. Oracle would have to know eventually... not until he had a plan, and a backup plan, established and ready to defend and implement. Her name, too, was crossed away from the list.

Of his other old friends, Hal was dead, and no-one he would have talked to in any case, Barry, who he might have, was also gone... Ollie?

The thought had some merit. Laugh he might... but Ollie and he went a long way back. Unlike most of them, Ollie would recall that even at this age //slightly older. So what?// he had been someone to reckon with, unlike most of his allies. And Ollie had had a... vaguely similar experience, up to and including the lost memories. It was possible. Not... preferable, but... possible.

An ally thought of, and _not_ noted down, he went to attempt sleep.

*~*~*~*~

Sleep had found him, eventually... and so had dreams of a variety he'd thought he'd left far behind. Nightmares would have been preferable to the lack of control this younger body and mind had... He'd awakened sweat-slick and sticky and utterly dismayed, flashes of skin and sweat and touch and taste his only memories of the dreams...

//I _did_ this once...// he thought angrily, glaring up at the ceiling, //and it was more than enough the first time... Wet dreams... like some damn teenager _again_ , Tim has more control...//

 _That_ thought pleased him not at all, and he went to throw himself into a frigid shower in hopes that it would cool both his temper and his... hormones. Once he stepped out he would have to face reality again... not a thought he particularly relished.

*~*~*~

Annoyed from the last day and a half, the difficulty he'd had in convincing Alfred to let him go before he and Tim killed each other out of frustrated anger, and generally out of sorts from the charter flight, Bruce flicked his phone out of his pocket as soon as the plane's wheels were on the ground and rang the man he'd finally decided to contact about this disaster. As mentioned, his old friend had been through something similar--and old memories brought back to the forefront of his mind had insisted. There had been trust and affection between them once, perhaps some of that could be reclaimed. If he was honest with himself, that wasn't all there had been--which, given events of that morning, was probably a good thing.

"Queen here; your dime, my time." Ollie was in a fair mood, at least from that greeting.

"Afternoon, Ollie. Can you be at SCI in half an hour, charter terminal, or should I go argue with a rental company?"

There was a pause, as Ollie processed that voice, the phrasing, and frowned. "Bruce... yes, I'll be there then."

"See you then," he nodded and closed the phone before Ollie could start hassling him for details. He had only one bag--shopping not having been one of his priorities, and few of his clothes came near fitting, now, but Alfred had altered a few pairs of pants and had acquired a few properly fitting shirts--so it was not as though he was going to have to fight with luggage. However, there was a queue of planes waiting to access the terminals, and they were caught behind them. He'd had the leverage to swing the flight... but this ID of Dick's didn't have enough to get him past this line, unlike his own name.

When he finally did get free with his bag he found that his old friend was standing near the door, eyes already locked on him. There was a strong mixture of shock and worry on his face, but hiding in his eyes, as Bruce grew closer, was the same appreciation of Bruce's form that had been there the first time around.

That drew a smile to his lips as he walked to him. "You made good time," he commented lightly, not bothering to attempt to change his voice. "Sorry to drop in unannounced."

"Always welcome in my city," Ollie said, omitting a name since Bruce had not filled him in on an alias yet. "Come on; the car's waiting."

Bruce nodded and followed, eyes running down his one-time lover's body with blazing hunger before he could yank himself back under control and calm it down. It was getting harder and harder to control the more uninhibited reactions of his younger body, and keeping all of his memories in place was almost as challenging. To say nothing of how frustrating the lack of the carefully honed, fine, ingrained control of his body was.

Once they reached the car, Ollie unlocked the doors by remote and popped the small trunk of his yellow sportster.

"...Never lost your taste for imitation?" a relatively mild jibe as thoughts of another yellow car flickered through his mind. He dropped the bag in the trunk and shut it even as he spoke, and smiled across the car at him as he pulled open the passenger door. "Or just nostalgic?"

"Hmm, never noticed... tend to think of Speedy with this car," Ollie shot back. He dropped into the driver's seat and looked at Bruce once the door was closed. "Damn, Bruce," he finally said, unconsciously wetting his lips. "Magic?"

"Yes. _Permanent_ magic that Jason _and_ Dr. Fate refuse to meddle with."

There was a sound that might have been a choked moan, before Ollie pulled the car out into traffic. "So you're... twenty, tops?" He could not help but remember what they had been doing when Bruce was that age the first time.

"About that, and given the set of my memories that are strongest I'd say just shy of," Bruce nodded, seeing the reactions he'd been only half-hoping to get with a surge of pleasure. It'd been a long time, after all, Ollie's tastes might well have changed. "They're both afraid that if they meddle I'll wind up either a toddler or in my nineties, and thank you, but I think _not_."

"Hell no," Ollie said bluntly. "Aside from working out the complications for Bruce Wayne's life, this is a damn good age for you," he added, glancing over with a predatory look.

Bruce sighed. " _Please_ don't remind me. J'onn has that covered for the moment, but that can't continue indefinitely. And... glad you still think so. Alfred certainly does not." His blue eyes were far too amused. //Oddly enough, the age difference is almost the same. You might have a year or so more on me, but that's hardly an issue.//

The man behind the wheel had to take a deep breath to control certain reactions he was having. "Stay here a while, and I'm sure we can come up with something to do... about things."

"Finding something to do... never was trouble where we were concerned, Ollie, as I remember quite vividly," Bruce told him, amused by Ollie's choice of words and what he could hear behind them. //No doubt, now... this was, if not a _wise_ idea, certainly a clever one.//

The older man pulled his phone out and punched the house number. "Connor...take Mia out for the rest of the day," he said in a tightly controlled voice. "I don't need either of you underfoot for a while," he said firmly. "Yes. Later." He hung up the phone and put it away, glancing at Bruce from the corner of his eye.

Bruce smiled, dark and wicked, and reached out to lay a hand lightly on Ollie's shoulder. "Connor demanding to know why you suddenly wanted him out of the house?"

"He assumes I'm making one of my more nefarious deals that hurt his sense of ethics." Ollie could not help the shiver he felt from the touch. "What he doesn't know, won't embarrass him or give Mia fodder for gossip."

"Hmm... doing anything that would bother mine?" Not a truly serious question, but his tone threaded with implied consequences. "True, and a wise move."

"Just using some of the top gang members to my advantage right now, until I have it completely under control." Ollie let his hand go to Bruce's thigh. "Playing the pieces on the board."

"Par for the course, then," Bruce replied, mixing the metaphor. "Always interesting to play them against each other..."

"Enough shop talk about my side of things," Ollie said. "You mentioned J'onn...what about the Bat? How long are you going to let yourself stay with me?"

"I'm not certain. Between Tim and J'onn, they say they have things under control, and it's best if a young man that looks precisely as I used to is _not_ seen around the Manor. Then there's the matter of completely rebuilding the suit, which is going to take time." He kept J'onn and Jason's words about taking the time to settle himself behind his lips. He _had_ to deal with this, but trying was so frustrating... There was simply no answer.

Ollie squeezed his thigh. "I think you've been thinking too much," he said, dropping his voice invitingly.

"You always did complain about that," it wasn't a yes, but not a no either. "And Oliver, you're driving. Stop making promises you can't yet fulfill..."

"And we're close enough to home that I can back my promises quick enough even for you, Bruce," he replied, letting his hand roam slightly.

Bruce shifted slightly into the touch, letting Ollie do as he wished for the moment, hand sliding from shoulder to the back of his neck. "We'll see..."

Ollie laughed softly at that. "We certainly will."

Bruce ran his thumb lightly up the side of Ollie's throat, hand still around the back of his neck. The low moan that got was one of barely contained hunger. From the instant Ollie had recognized his old friend, he had ached for the past, what they'd once been and for what they could be now, if Bruce was willing. Bruce hummed softly, pleased, and kept an eye on both the speedometer and the road. Ollie had a tendency to forget minor details when he was distracted, after all.

The archer managed to keep it under the safer limit for being pulled over, and was surprisingly more adept at staying where he should. When he turned off the main roads to pull into a very well off suburban neighborhood, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Almost there."

"I did say something about promises and haste," Bruce told him mildly as that thumb pressed into the hollow behind his ear.

Ollie chuckled. "Dammit, Bruce, you know what you're doing to me," he said, his voice riddled with both his want and being amused at himself for it.

"Of course I do," Bruce replied as he tightened the muscles of his thigh. "Just like you do." The unspoken //if you can't stand the heat...// echoed in the silence.

Somehow Ollie managed to get the car in the garage and hit the door remote. It had barely started to lower before he leaned over and breathed against Bruce's ear. "Let's get inside before my car gets the Batmobile treatment."

Bruce tightened the hand on his neck and turned his head to take those lips, kissing him deep and hard for a while, then, "Let's."

Getting out of the car meant separating from touching, and Ollie quickly fumbled for both keys and alarm code to get them inside. The bedroom was too far, but the den had a nice sized couch, he thought. Ollie's house, his lead on where, but Bruce was being distracting, hand running hard down his back, then to a hip as he followed him.

Ollie turned at the couch, pressing against Bruce before finally letting his hands truly roam that perfect body, comparing its youth to his memories. That earned him Bruce's tongue in his mouth, hands sliding over him, pulling him in closer and Ollie's touch blazed lightning up his spine, making him shift his weight to rub slowly against him, leashing the reactions with everything he had to keep from reacting like his teenaged body was demanding.

Ollie's mind flicked over what he wanted, what they had been, and then he just moved, tumbling Bruce back onto the couch and sliding up over him. Bruce's eyes snapped with blue fire, hands tightening on him as he considered rolling Ollie now and reminding him why being pushy was a bad idea, or giving him leeway for the moment...

The archer slid from kissing Bruce's mouth to his throat, body language indicating this was very much a prelude to further moves down Bruce's body. His hands were working at getting clothing out of the way as all he wanted was to taste every inch of skin. Bruce arched up, helping with that goal, deciding he could let Ollie have his way for the moment, if that was what he had in mind. His hands slid over shoulders and hair almost impartially.

"Damn, Bruce...you always were so damn perfect," Ollie growled, before his teeth grazed a rib, followed by hard sucking kisses. Bruce laughed, low and soft... and his fingers started deliberately grazing over a certain set of pressure-points in neck and shoulders to distract himself from the touch of that wicked mouth.

Ollie moaned and twisted into that touch before he moved further down, kisses tracing the center line of Bruce's abs. That drew a low growl and a sharp buck of his hips before they stilled again, hands still sliding over him, possessiveness in every touch.

"Still so strong," Ollie chuckled. He then left a lingering kiss on the rise of Bruce's pelvis. Bruce stroked his back and sides, barely managing to control the hungry shudders trying to run through his body, eyes watching him intently.

Ollie paused, looking up wickedly. "More, Bruce?"

"Oliver," Bruce replied, a low warning in his tone, hand tightening on his shoulder. "Don't stop."

That tone, the tightening on his skin, all of it made Ollie reel in sensual bliss. He dropped his mouth down, taking his time to kiss and suck at just the tip of what he wanted.

"Mmm..." Soft moan and a slow shift of his hips, and after a moment, words the adult would never have said for all of their truth, "Missed your mouth; you...."

Ollie closed his eyes, knowing it was the younger body affecting the control, but no less pleased to hear them. Gaining Dinah had meant losing Bruce, and there had been a time when it felt bittersweet to the man he had been. But Bruce would never have carried on in an affair behind the back of a woman he called friend. Ollie pushed the history back, concentrating on licking, nipping, sucking at that hard length in ways he remembered had pleased his aggressive lover. Bruce moaned softly--Ollie remembered far, _far_ too well how to drive him mad--and he fought halfheartedly against the pleasure cresting so swiftly inside him, shifting to a patterned breathing to control himself. A hard slide of Ollie's tongue broke that, both of his hands tangling through Ollie's hair, hips starting to move in a deeper rhythm. Ollie brought his hands up, holding onto Bruce's hips as he maintained both rhythm and pressure, sliding with Bruce's thrusts, coaxing him further.

Bruce struggled between two conflicting desires, but Ollie simply felt too good, too familiar and knowing... and he let go, trusting Ollie to work with him as his hips snapped harder, eyes closing and his head going back as he shuddered over the edge, entire body caught in it. Ollie swallowed every drop, his tongue playing over sensitive skin with eager skill to make sure Bruce was fully pleased. When he was sure Bruce was finished, he pulled away, kissing a line up his body.

Bruce pulled him down against him, hissing at the feel of fabric against sensitized skin, and kissed him for several long moments before beginning work on separating Ollie from the clothing in his way. The blond was more than willing to help with that matter, groaning as they finally freed him from his pants.

As soon as he had Ollie stripped to his skin, Bruce shifted, twisted, and pinned him down, against the back of the couch, kissing him again as his hands learned new scars and changed contours, found old sensitive places and teased. His lover writhed for him, pressing up into every touch, trying to rub his length against Bruce.

Bruce smiled to feel Ollie's eager response, sucking down his throat without the intent to bruise--he'd not embarrass his lover. Once his mouth found Ollie's shoulder, however, he was under no such restraint and sucked at his skin hard, settled over him, hands on his sides and in over his shoulders--he'd _missed_ this. So few he could trust far enough for intimacy, fewer yet now, and Ollie, one of the _very_ few who knew his preferences went both ways, gone so long into his friend's arms. His breath shuddered a moment before he licked his way lower, feeling the steel-strong strength of him in the solid muscle.

"Oh god, Bruce...too damn long," Ollie complained, running his hands over Bruce's shoulders, occasionally sliding over his neck or hair, but never lingering. "So damn good to feel you again."

"I know, Ollie. I know." He didn't regret the choice, seeing them both happy had been more than worth it, but... He moved against him, feeling his body reacting again, to his satisfaction as he continued reacquainting himself with his lover's body, attention caught by every scar he didn't recall for a moment... and he closed his eyes. "How far am I going to have to go to find something?" tone of his voice making it more than obvious what he was implying, what he wanted--Ollie _might_ protest, but from his tone and words, he doubted it.

"Medkit, in the bottom of that table there," Ollie said smugly. "It's just a basic oil, but..."

"It's oil," Bruce agreed, shaking his head slightly as he moved away enough to rifle through said kit until he found it, then slid back over Ollie's body to kiss him, leaving it laying at shoulder-level on the floor for a moment. //Next time think of that _first_.//

Ollie moaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down the cut muscles along Bruce's sides. Bruce purred into it, low, soft noise as he finally pulled away from the kiss. "Turn over."

Ollie shivered at that commanding tone, but slid his hands away, turning slowly and then pressing back to Bruce's chest, trapped between the couch frame and Bruce's body. Bruce rubbed his jaw against Ollie's shoulder and neck, quick and almost feline and very pleased, then sucked at the back of his neck. He shifted his weight, braced up on one arm as mouth and hand went after sensitive spots all through Ollie's shoulders. He knew where the pain lingered, where along the muscles nerves came closest to the skin, and stroked and caressed, pressed tightly to his lower body.

Ollie's hand reached back, coming to rest on Bruce's hip as he moved slowly, hips flexing. "Yours," he said, almost by reflex, but with sincerity in it that throbbed with power.

//How long this time?// Bruce wondered but didn't say as he teased and pleasured him until he was achingly hard again, then twisted to take the oil off the floor, then braced over him again, moving away enough to slick his fingers and slide them down the hard curve of Ollie's ass, pressing gently, but insistently, mouth against his throat.

Ollie moaned at every sensation, until those fingers pressed against his opening. "Oh, Bruce...slow..." It was not a command, or even a request, more of a wish voiced aloud. The archer worked himself back, eyes closing; it had been a very long time.

"That I think I can handle," Bruce agreed, pressing a single fingertip into him slowly, letting Ollie move back into it almost at his own pace, other hand under him curling up around a wrist to hold him.

"More?" Ollie begged, once he had adjusted, his hips still rocking. "Please."

"Yes," Bruce told him, hand moving, sliding another finger inside him slowly, mouth still moving over his throat. Ollie bucked into this one after Bruce had stretched him gently, his hips starting to move erratically as he groaned with need.

"Need me?" Bruce asked, voice almost idle--it wasn't, the tone came from leashing his body to his control with every bit of his will.

"Yes!" That tone was begging, pleading with Bruce to take him. Bruce purred softly, hearing that. He slipped his fingers away, slicked himself, and took his lover, breath under tight control. Ollie let out a long, low cry of satisfaction, pressing back into Bruce and closing his eyes.

"We are absolutely going to make a disaster of your couch," Bruce told him as he moved, slow and sure--and he prayed Ollie never realized how much it took to do so, to give his lover what he so obviously wanted.

Ollie's breath was harsh and edged as he shook his head. "Don't care." His own length was throbbing, reacting to the stimulation of being filled.

"Good. I don't either," as he moved with him, over and over again, speaking softly against his throat, "I _have_ missed you..."

"Missed you every damn empty night, Bruce...especially after a good fight," Ollie agreed, his words hitching occasionally as he felt his body moving to an edge.

That drew a long, low laugh, and a nip at his shoulder. "Yes, you would," he said with pleasure, keeping Ollie moving to his pace even as he listened to his voice shudder with closed eyes, knowing he was riding that same edge. "Now, Ollie. Fly."

"For you," Ollie managed to say, his body bucking hard against his lover. "God, Bruce...." His voice was almost a whisper, choking with intense pleasure as he did ruin his couch. Bruce followed him, teeth in his shoulder yet again as his lover's shaking body pulled him over in the same breath.

"Bruce..." Ollie's hand clenched on his lover's thigh, hard enough to bruise.

"Yes?" he asked once he could breathe and think again, kissing the shoulder he'd marked.

"Thank you for trusting me again," Ollie managed, resting his chest against the upper part of the couch.

Bruce just stroked down his side, touch gentle. "It wasn't lack of trust," //idiot// "as much as I can recall. More... differing opinions and, well, Dinah."

Ollie chuckled. "I meant enough to come to me _now_." He concentrated on getting his breathing back fully under control.

"Aah." He made a small, dismissive noise. "First person I thought of, and the best. Tell me who else I actually have some faith in would take _this_ well... or react the way you did," he added, teasing gently.

"I hope nobody," Ollie growled, not above his own bit of possessiveness. He might accept belonging to Bruce, but preferred knowing that he had Bruce mostly to himself.

"No one I can think of," the young man pressed along his spine agreed. "Well, Jason possibly, but... no. Etrigan would never let either of us hear the end of it."

"And here I thought you hated magic." Ollie was not going to argue with that particular liaison. "I guess I should make some attempt to clean up," he chuckled, not really wanting to move out of Bruce's arms.

"Generally," Bruce said mildly. "You probably should. And we might move things to a bed. ... _I'll_ admit to having a teenager's body back, but you have no such excuse..."

"It's me, Bruce... have I ever said no, no matter where we were?" Both men were given added incentive as the sound of the kitchen door opening impacted their awareness.

"Well, onc--Oh, damn," Bruce said as he moved swiftly, sliding out of Ollie with a kiss for the suddenness as he reached for his slacks, jerking them on quickly. "I thought you told them to clear out..."

Ollie scrambled to grab his own pants, hastily jerking them up ...and freezing in mid-closure as the person called out to the house.

"Mia, Connor?" The voice preceded footsteps, leading right to the den.

Bruce looked towards Ollie with complete and utter dismay written across his features, thinking //Of _all_ the people it could be, _Dinah?_ Lachesis, you malicious bitch, what did we do to deserve this?//

"Mi...oh...ummm," Dinah said as she stepped in, saw the two of them in pants but no shirts, the livid bruises across Ollie's shoulders, and his embarrassed-guilty look. She flicked her eyes from her ex-lover, to Bruce, and the shock just compounded.

"Ohhh-kay; so did not need this added to my life," she snapped, turning her back on the room. Both men could see how tense she was as she stood there, and Ollie quickly grabbed his shirt to clean at the couch. "You'll need the upholstery cleaner, you idiot," she snapped at him, hearing that. "It's probably under your sink. Where are the kids?"

"Shopping," Ollie said in a subdued voice.

Dinah nodded, a quick angry movement. "Bruce, you....this change. Did my partner know?"

"Good eyes, Dinah," Bruce said mildly--but then, with as much as his face had been plastered over magazines, especially within Gotham, it was not that surprising. "No. She doesn't." One more nasty comment Ollie's direction and the two of them were going to have trouble.

"Oliver, I'm going to go find the kids. I'll call before we come back." The voice was so neutral, so bland, that even Bruce noted just how strongly Barbara had influenced the woman. "I am sorry. I just didn't think I needed to knock when Connor had given me a key," Dinah added before walking away.

"Ahh, hell...boy gets me in more trouble..."

Bruce followed her. "You can refrain from telling her as well, Dinah. That's mine, once I figure out what I'm going to do."

She whirled on him. "You don't intimidate me, Bruce Wayne," she snapped at him. "That's **my** partner, and if there is a problem in your family of heroes, she deserves to know, so she can make the plans accordingly!"

"At the moment, J'onn is handling Gotham, and Oracle will know as soon as _I_ have determined how I intend to handle this... unless you care to say that as my body has been youthened I no longer have that right?" Silken danger in the tone of that last.

"I know your idea of timing," she said in a low tone that did nothing to disguise the heavy emotion of...hurt? jealousy? ... in her eyes and body language. "You won't let anyone help you, until you think you already have the problem solved, or it blows up in your face."

Bruce narrowed his eyes at her. "If I intended to allow no-one to help me, I would have sent Robin and Dick from the Manor, rather than leave myself..."

Dinah shook here head. "Fine, stubborn-ass..." She shook her head. "If it blows up in your face, I'll content myself with an 'I told you so'." She turned to leave, not willing to let him see just how badly shaken she was by all of this, preferring to leave her anger open for view.

Bruce shook his head, eyes hard. Of course this was going to blow up in his face, what _else_ could she possibly expect? The only question was how badly and when. "Enjoy it when it happens," he replied mildly, turning away to check the cabinet below the sink for the cleaner as he was already in the kitchen--she moved so swiftly when she was angry. The only answer he got was the slamming of the kitchen door, followed by the sound of her rental tearing out of the neighborhood.

"That...is not the way I would have ever expected her to react," Ollie said, joining him. He found the cleaning brush and took the cleaner, before grabbing a rag too and wetting it. "I'd say panties in a twist, but she'd somehow hear it and kick my ass."

"Yes, she would. And... it wasn't?" That surprised him. Ollie generally knew Dinah's moods well.

"She acted like...Nah, must be imagining that. She's gotten hard to read since she left me this last time." They moved back tot he den to clean it up. "She'll cool off; she always does." Despite the casual words, Ollie was not perfectly at ease.

"Acted like what, Ollie?" Bruce asked, leaving the couch to Ollie as he handled cleaning off the oil bottle and resettling it, and everything else, in the medkit to stow it away again.

"She was acting jealous." Ollie shook his head. "I didn't know it at the time, but she had seen ...someone with me, and gotten away without my knowing. The way she treated me after...I just thought she was mad, even if it was edged worse than normal. That's the way she seemed once she got over processing who you were."

"I'm just curious as to which of us she's more jealous _of_ ," Bruce said. He'd thought about her for a long time, drawing back the details of years of flirtation and the quicksilver way her moods changed.

Ollie chuckled. "That's my girl, confusing til the bitter end," he said ruefully. "I can't believe Connor...how in hell did both my boys get so tight with her?" Ollie was just complaining, a normal process for him as he tried to deal.

"From what I remember? You can probably blame Roy."

Ollie chuckled. "You're right." He finished his task then came back to Bruce, moving close to try and provoke a kiss, hoping this had not put his lover off.

Bruce straightened and pulled him close, kissing him back. He had not intended for others to know yet, it unsettled him... but there was nothing he could do about her knowledge. Ollie moaned at his kiss, eyes closing. When they parted, he thought of reassuring Bruce that Dinah would not say a word, but he really did not want to explain Hal.

" _That_ was pleasant," Bruce said sarcastically, looking towards the door in explanation. "Now, I think I was saying something about moving to a bed?"

Ollie gave a wry laugh. "And she was probably having a _good_ day, if she was swinging by to teach Mia." Ollie grabbed Bruce's hand, pulling him along to show him the bedroom.

Bruce followed, shaking his head slightly. Derailing this trainwreck was going to take effort... but he'd deal with that later.

*~*~*~*


End file.
